


Regulars

by Niko_Niko_Neek



Category: Star Wars: Jedi: Fallen Order (Video Game)
Genre: Barista AU, F/M, First Dates, Fluff, a lot of fluff, coffee shop AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-11
Updated: 2021-02-11
Packaged: 2021-03-17 08:48:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29347665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Niko_Niko_Neek/pseuds/Niko_Niko_Neek
Summary: Cal decides to talk to the young woman who serves his coffee.
Relationships: Cal Kestis/Merrin
Comments: 8
Kudos: 41





	Regulars

**Author's Note:**

> All of my knowledge regarding Russia is based on the Russian students I chatted with when I studied abroad. I have never actually been there, so I apologize for any mistakes!
> 
> Also-Yes, I am posting this in the midst of writing a dark Inquisitor Cal piece. It was getting too sad for me :( So I figured some fluff might be nice!

There was something infinitely peaceful about a college town just before six am. Certainly it’s an ungodly hour to be awake at, but Cal was a light sleeper, and enjoyed his morning walks just before things began to get busy. The sky overhead was a pale blue, preluding clear skies, and the orange glow of the sun had only just begun to kiss the horizon, glinting through the autumn trees. Overall, Cal is feeling good-he’d only just submitted his robotics final a few hours before, and the welcoming promise of fall break settled over him like a comfortable blanket. He tells himself that his optimism is just due to the end of term, and not that he knows that he’s heading to his favorite coffee shop during the start of his favorite barista’s morning shift.

Is it creepy to call her his favorite barista? A small frown crosses his face as he proceeds down the sidewalk. No, it wasn’t creepy-creepy would be something like ogling her as she worked and just sitting in the coffee shop doing nothing until she left and following her afterwards like some kind of stalker. Cal would never do that-in fact, he had barely even chatted with the young woman beyond the usual ‘What can I get you?’ and ‘That’ll be this much’. Still, there was something about her that struck him as kind-maybe a little lonely, like she didn’t have too many friends.

It wasn’t a weird thing.

The clear tingle of a bell signified Cal’s arrival-only one other student is in the shop, and he’s falling asleep in one of the little couches by the window. There are two people at the counter-an older woman with a buzz cut and some pretty impressive boots, and the young woman who had been on Cal’s mind recently.

Merrin doesn’t say anything to greet him beyond a small nod of recognition. Some quiet acoustic pop song is playing over the speakers with equally sappy lyrics, which do not help Cal in his current situation. The plan was to try and make conversation with Merrin, and already that feels like a daunting task.

For it just turning six o’clock, Merrin holds no trace of grogginess. Her bleached hair-(was it bleached, Cal wonders? Or is she just that naturally blonde?)-is pulled into a neat tie at the back of her head, fringed bands hanging down above her right eyebrow. She’s currently writing something on a cup, and must know the song because she’s humming it under her breath. Cal could maybe learn it on his guitar when he got back to his dorm-it seemed simple enough, and if she liked it-

“Your usual again?”

A distinct accent inturrupts his shameless daydreaming. Startled, Cal shakes his head to clear it. His usual? She really had it memorized?

“You come in every morning, almost.” Merrin clarifies. Feeling a little stupid, Cal clears his throat.

“Uh, yeah. Please. Thanks.” Deciding to buy himself some recovery time from that utterly fumbled greeting, Cal busies himself by digging out his wallet. She doesn’t ask for his name-probably has that remembered, too-and instead Cal pays in embarrassed silence. However, when it comes time to wait, he decides against his usual place in the back table where he studies. No-today, he will sit right up at the counter and talk to her.

If she wants to talk, anyway.

Merrin is already busying herself with his drink (Chai latte, little bit of extra cinnamon), but given the lack of customers and the slow pace, Cal decides to try his luck and says the first thing that comes to mind.

“I finished building a robot yesterday.”

Shit. Was that bragging? He didn’t want to act like he was smarter than her or anything.

“Robot?” She replies, ignoring the quiet chuckle from her co-worker. “You build them?”

“Uh. Yeah, kinda.” Kinda? Yes he did, it was his major! He smoothed back his hair, a nervous tick. “I program them. The one I just finished was for my robotics final.”

“And what does it do?”

“It’s, uh, a socilization robot. For people who have a hard time making friends-kids and stuff, or people with Autism. His name’s BD-1.”

“I assume you would use him quite often.”

Cal isn’t sure if it’s a joke or not, until a quick smile Merrin gives him from over her shoulder flips his stomach.

“...I am joking. Here.”

A mug is placed down in front of him-for a second he wonders who it is, before the blatantly obvious fact that he’d ordered it smacks him full in the face.

“Thanks, uh...Merrin. Is that, uh...I hope I’m not being rude, but is that accent European?”

“It is not rude to ask questions,” she replies with a small shrug. “But, yes. Russian.” Merrin moves over to one of the machines, rinsing out a pitcher she had just used to make foam. “I came here to work, but then made it a longer trip. When the government went to shit.”

Cal makes the unfortunate mistake of laughing mid-sip, and quickly wipes his mouth. “Yikes.”  
“But then your government is also shit. So, what am I to do? I decided to stay for the warm weather. Until I get tired of it.”

“Do you go to school here?”

“I take some classes. Here and there.”

Setting his mug down, Cal sits up a little straighter. “Really? What kind?”

Merrin locks eyes with him above the espresso maker. “Witchcraft and religious studies.”

Witchcraft?

“...Like…” He swallows, choosing his next works carefully. “Like, not cursing people I assume? Just the theology?”

“It depends.” Her arms fold on the countertop, and an almost mischievous grin crosses her face. “Have you done anything that deserves being cursed?”

Cal swallows. “N-Not that I know of.”

“Then, I suppose you are fine.” Merrin chuckles. It’s the first time he’s heard her laugh-it’s a quiet, strangely comforting sound.

\------------------------------

The next time he orders from Merrin, she draws a very small (and surprisingly accurate) picture of the character WALL-E on his cup. He’s annoyed that it kicks his pulse up by at least five beats per minute.

In return, he gives her an enamel pin of the Wicked Witch of the West. She rolls her eyes, but pins it to her apron. It’s still there the next day. And the next.

\-----------------------------

About six days later, Merrin is wiping the counter off while Cal aimlessly watches traffic from the window-at least until she addresses him again.

“I am off in five minutes. If there is something you wanted to ask me, you should ask now.”

Cal blinks. Ask her? What was she wanting him to ask her?

“Sorry?” 

Merrin folds her arms and levels him with a long stare. For a moment, he’s worried that he’s pissed her off somehow.

“It has been five days. I was under the impression you were trying to flirt with me. Yes or no?”

Oh, shit. Had he been that obvious? “Um...Yes?” Cal replies, tentatively.

“Good. Then we will go in five minutes.”

“....Okay.”

Turns out, Merrin enjoys walking as much as he does. There isn’t too much to see in their little town, but they do have at least one public park nearby, which Cal figures would be as good a place as any to have an improvised date.

“I would’ve worn something different if I knew this was going to happen,” he mused with a shake of his head.

“What, is there a sweater of yours that I have not seen yet?” Merrin asks with a quirked brow. 

“...I have a black one that’s nice.”

“Next time.”

So there will be a next time. Cal is happy enough with that, but when Merrin slips a hand into his halfway to the park, he decides that he could die perfectly happy within the next five minutes. Maybe he’s listened to too many folk songs.

“What’s your favorite thing to eat back in Moscow?” he asks on a whim, swinging her hand.

Merrin thinks for a few seconds. “Hm….Marlenka. I do not think there is anything like it here?”

“Marlenka,” Cal repeats carefully. “What’s that?”

“Cake with honey. It is Armenian, I think, technically. But it’s very easy to find there.”

Cake with honey seems simple enough. “I could maybe try to make it for you, if you want?”

Merrin turns her head to stare at him. “....Are you trying to bribe me, Cal Kestis?”

He laughs. “No, no, I just like baking stuff.”

“You like to cook?”

“Sure, sometimes.”

She squeezes his hand. “Be careful. I may just propose now.”


End file.
